


Springtrapped

by Sandentwins



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dubious Consent, Gen, Hardcore Furry, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandentwins/pseuds/Sandentwins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the Purple Guy lived the horror of becoming Springtrap, and everything that followed...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His name didn't matter, as he was incomplete.   
He was only an employee of this stupid pizzeria. His only role was to show others how to operate the Springlock suits, and that was it. No thrill, nothing exciting about his life. The feeling of something lacking all along.   
And then, one of these kids showed up on his road. It was crying, so helpless... but instead of helping it, he killed it. His descent started, and he wanted more of it. More of this lust, this desire for murder, more of such an excitement!   
The first second he had put on the suit of this rotting bear, he had felt the connection happening. A feeling of completeness, as that of a dream becoming true. Even if the endoskeleton had been taken off, he had barely enough room to move safely inside the suit, as there still were remaining wires that would scratch him and poke him as he was moving. But it was no big deal.   
He had led his mission to the end. After the joyful feeling of his first murder, fifteen years ago, he had wanted to get more of it. That one night, he did the impossible. Five children, five lost toddlers, and their blood everywhere in this damn pizzeria. Their blood on his hands, his face, his body. Oh, he had loved it like never before. For so long, he would think about that mad feeling. The suit... it had felt way better than the murder itself. He had wanted these kids to share his wonderful experience; and in no time, he had got them into the suits. Four animatronics available, that became filled with organs and bodily fluids, a mess of flesh and robot parts, that killed them on the spot. He had loved to see them realise his dream, a dream of becoming one with the machinery, to merge with the mascots and become part of them. And he knew they would be happy in this new form.   
They had thrown him in jail for murder and torture, but had to release him as the proof worthy bodies had never been found. His decision to go back to Freddy Fazbear's was only natural, as he had wanted to see his work a last time before departing.   
How to describe the horror he had found? The animatronics, alive and sentient, despite being doomed to closure, and hosting what appeared to be the ghosts of his preys. That damn puppet must have done it...   
They had him cornered in the safe room. He had to hide, to disappear from their judging sight. But how? The only entrance to this safe room was blocked by the ghosts, and each second passing was them coming closed! He hadn't got the choice, and hid into the suit.   
He had no tools to operate the spring locks, so he had to do it by hand, this disastrous humidity all around and with the ghosts right behind him. But he managed to enter the Bonnie costume, fitting his body in a way he could move. Lowering the rabbit's face onto his own, he glared at the five spirits surrounding him, at how clueless they seemed, their ever-crying faces bent in an expression of shock and terror. He had won this battle, he had done it! The terror these kids bore for the animatronic mascots was such, they did not even dare to move. He couldn't help but laugh, laugh at their cluelessness, laugh at his own victory, laugh at...   
...what was that sound?   
He should have known, old mechanics aren't made to last. When the spring locks broke with a horrible cranking noise, he hadn't even the time to panic, his skull was being crushed inside of the endoskeleton head, his limbs made prisoner by the metal wires that pierced through his flesh, chips and processors filling his organs, the heavy servomotors barring his legs and making his blood spill everywhere around him. The animatronic was filling him, turning him inside out, replacing his guts and blood by engines and electric currents. He screamed, a deafening scream forever stuck in his voice box, and collapsed helplessly, under the glare of the five ghosts of the past.   
The next days, employees went to board up the doors and seal the safe room for good. No one did even bother to come inside and look for him. No one heard his muffled screams for help. No one... no one noticed him.   
Never did he know what solitude truly felt like. In this dark room, his only companions were the sound of the rain, the peeping of the mice, and the ghosts that were haunting his head. The pain would not go away, for he could not die. This was his punishment, his sentence. He was meant to stay forever inside of this spring trap, without even the right to move.   
But as days, months, maybe years passed, he learnt to get used to the pain. He learnt to recognize the dying signals coming from the mechanics, to understand them. He learnt to merge his flesh, his blood, with the wires and the servos. His dream of becoming one of the machines... was becoming a reality, attempt after attempt. Each time he would try to move, his body would be surprisingly heavy, as if his veins had been filled with lead. After many unsuccessful attempts, he managed to move his head, to blink, to open his mouth. Looking at his hand, he didn't recognized it at first. Was it his? Or a stranger's? He tried to move it, but only managed to raise a finger. It had been hard for him to recover his memory, as his brain had been crushed by the processors, but he remembered being into the suit... and how this had been a pleasure. He almost felt turned on by the perspective of being an animatronic, a real one, instead of a human dressed in an empty suit. His shredded body covered in shivers of delight at the thought.   
He needed to train. He needed to be able to move freely. He needed to be ready.   
He learnt to move his hands, to fold and clench them at will. He learnt to see through the eyes of Springtrap, his eyes, his violet irises embedded with new technological retinas. He learnt to hear, to listen, to locate sounds using his long new ears.   
It took him months to stand up, relying on the wall, and maybe more to take his first steps. Wandering around the safe room, failing to break the planks that sealed the door, his thoughts became somewhat clearer. He wanted to feel what those kids felt, when they were playing to kill the poor guard. The one he hired personally, luring him into a new kind of trap. His mind was clear: he wanted to kill.   
An occasion came way later, when they opened the way to the hidden room. He did his best to look out of order, and got brought up to his new home. He wanted to feel what they felt, and started hunting.   
His name was Springtrap, and he was complete.


	2. Chapter 2

These corridors were smelling of sweat, mold and ash. That's what he first noticed through his snout, a mass of brown felt that sometimes blocked his vision. The floor was dirty, as he had troubles walking on those checkered tiles without stucking his endoskeleton feet in some sticky residue. The cold wind of the raggedy ventilation system was making his intestines and servos shiver. Also, a weird feeling of creepiness was emerging from every corner of Fazbear's Fright, but it was the only good point about this place, he thought.   
Once the clock reached midnight, Springtrap's circuits started to move. It was a good time to go around and stretch a little. His limbs were well-trained, they could move without any problems. At first he had lots of troubles putting up with the mechanic instinct of looking for children to entertain, but soon this program merged with his desire to kill. And what a good experience, walking inside these halls! He could feel the animatronic's feet, his feet, as they pressed on the cold and hard floor. His hands, which he stroked against the walls covered in drawings, were feeling everything, every bump or crease on the surface, as his nerves were now connected to the metal fingers. Even though the rabbit mask was kind of a bother, he could see without any problem. His eyes had been gouged by those of the Springlock, but his sight had been bettered by the experience, upgraded with a thermic sight, that allowed him to see people even through walls.   
And currently, there was one tonight.   
Being a night guard at Fazbear's was a call for suicide. He remembered his own past as an employee of this damn group. Technician, nightshift guard, then dayshift replacement, around the time he started killing. What a nice experience this had been. Once he got himself ranked enough, he had turned this company into a trap. Leaving only one night guard at a time, with rampaging animatronics waiting for them. Vents leading right to the office, all of the company's budget spent on the animatronic's processors rather than on food for those pesky kids. It had been such a fun game to watch.   
Well, at first. But then they had arrested him. And that had been way less funny.   
As Springtrap walked down the halls, a noise made itself heard. His ears perked up. Was that... a giggle? A childish laugh that just had echoed through the corridors, from right behind him. Turning around, creeping his heavy feet, Springtrap rushed to the sound. Part of him wanted to entertain, and another part wanted to kill. Going back to the room he had woken up in, he looked around in a frenzy, trying to find the kid who would have attempted to play hide-and-seek with his circuits, he looked all around desperately. But there was no trace of a child around.   
Disappointed, Springtrap switched to heat vision, and crept down the halls, towards the innocent night watch. He needed to kill, to feel the kick again. But as he was progressing with pain, the laugh echoed again.   
Turning his head around, Springtrap tried to locate the heat signature of whoever was there. But no one, not even a mouse, was to be detected. That angered him: what was the meaning of this? Why would anyone play him this way? Even if the animatronic part of him was a mess of programs and basic reactions, the human part of him was no fool. That had to be a trick, for sure. Looking up, he tried to detect the cameras, to see if they were recording. And the laugh resonated again, but there was no sign of the slightest body heat around. That's when he saw.   
It was coming from a voice box, set right next to the camera. A dumb record of a child's laugh, made to fool him.   
So that's how they wanted to play, then? A dirty mind game that would trick half of him? What a mistake. The one who thought could trick Springtrap wasn't born yet! Thats when the animatronic noticed a large opening in the wall. A vent.  
His body could fit in with some difficulty. Crawling inside the metal walls, his heavy machinery moving with pain, he managed to pass the ventilation doors in time. Seeing the lack of light, the night guard didn't know there were cameras in the ventilation system. Who the heck would even put cameras in vents? Someone with a twisted mind, just like him. And he loved it.   
With a final crawl, he made his way into the room.   
The guard was staring at the monitor, mumbling frenetic words that sounded like "where the fuck did he go" or something the like. Springtrap realized those were the first words he had heard since... that night. The humans who have brought him here had been all silent, almost lifeless employees who had got no choice but to obey. And as the animatronic got closer to the guard, the latter lowered the screen.  
Springtrap hissed in surprise, and the guard screamed, falling off his chair. He wasn't prepared to this, for sure. Screaming, crawling to the wall behind, failing to find a way out, his eyes were looking at the Springlock with an expression of pure fear.   
On the spot, Springtrap seemed to become more hesitant. What to do now? That wimp seemed harmless, especially against the mass of circuits and hard metal that Springtrap was. The rabbit took a step forward, the night guard curling into a fetal-like position, arms protecting his head, but the animatronic ignored it. Grabbing the guard by the waist, surprised by his own strength, he lifted him off the ground with little to no effort, and stared at the scared one's eyes. 

"P... Please let me go!", the human begged. 

Springtrap paid no attention, and kept looking at him. One part of him was itching to kill this human, and the other part was lounging to sing a welcoming song and tempt the customer to buy lots of expensive pizza. Which half of his being would get the upper hand? He had no idea.   
His thoughts were a mess. Kill, entertain? Treat well, dismember? Sing, crush? He didn't know anymore. What were his motives in the first place? Why had he been programmed to have mental problems? He couldn't tell anymore.   
Springtrap kept glaring at the night guard, for way too long for that latter not to notice part of the bunny's internal struggle. The guard slowly let go of his terror, replacing it gradually with a scared confusion mixed with genuine curiosity. 

"What... What are you doing?", the man asked. 

Springtrap felt weird. Was he _actually_ talking to him, the disgusting and crumpled animatronic? Was that reject he was feeling, or something more along the lines of...interest?

"C...can you at least...put me down? You're really hurting me."

Springtrap blinked. The night guard, weirdly amused, returned the gesture. Without any other clue of what he was to do, the rabbit decided that the best was to put the human down. He was programmed not to harm customers, plus he still was reticent about killing grown-ups by himself.   
The night guard backed up, but didn't flee. Instead, his eyes flickered with curiosity, and met the Springlock's. 

"You can understand...what I'm saying?"

The customer's words were indeed registered into the animatronic's English vocabulary database, even though his accent was weird. Springtrap wondered what state he was in, and where the fuck could Fazbear's Fright be located.   
The robot blinked, tilting his head to the side. Slowly reaching out to the guard, who started to freak out again, he tried to touch his face without hurting that fragile pile of bones and flesh. It felt warm; a feeling he had forgotten long since his last human contact, which was way long ago.   
The night guard was sweating nervously, but didn't move when Springtrap ran one of his fingers up to his hair, playing with the foreign sensations. Why couldn't he run away? That thing was able to kill him without a problem, for fuck's sake! If he stayed here for one more second, he would be turned into a bloody mash without a doubt!  
But for some reason, as much as he was scared, he didn't mind that weird touch. Needless to say, having an animatronic stroke him like that right after an intense moment of panic and nearly a heart attack...felt weirdly good, even though it looked like some weird shit straight out of a porn anime. His cheeks flushed deeply; not that he was into that, especially considering that awful dead rat smell coming from the rabbit...but he couldn't say he had never been interested in furry smut and things the like. The sudden thought of Springtrap's hands stroking him in his most intimate places was causing an embarrassed arousal to show on his face, and maybe in his pants too. Worst was, Springtrap was seeing all of it.   
If the rabbit had the power of mind-reading, he would have loved to see what was the human thinking about right now. Even though, he didn't needed supernatural powers to notice the obvious shame on the human's face as he stroked it, careful enough not to poke his eyes with loose wires or to pull his skin off. Still, if he couldn't kill or entertain this human, his struggle still taking place in a corner of his robiotic mind process, there were many ways he could play with him.  
His own life as a human had never been really enthusiastic about other people. His killing tendencies were also an answer to sexual tension, and seeing his murderous habits, no one would have wanted any second of commitment to share with him. He never felt the need for a mate, even for criminal purposes. They'd have ended up selling him to the cops.   
But now...now was something else. This human was obviously pressing himself against his hand, his legs slightly chaffing against each other in an attempt to ease a pesky erection. Springtrap's animatronic half didn't compute the message, but his human half got somewhat interested. After all, there was a way he could have some fun tonight.   
Lifting the human off the ground again, Springtrap brought him onto the desk, brushing some figurines and papers away. The night guard bit his lip as his blushing became more pronounced, and an animatronic hand helped to spread his legs apart. A nice, sturdy bump was clearly seen in the man's pants, that made the rabbit growl in desire.   
Springtrap, as a character, didn't have a defined gender. Many parents thought that having a male character with eyelashes was a disaster that would turn their kids into queer teens, even though the costume designers themselves had never specified its gender. As an animatronic, he simply was a robot, without any programming about sexual matters. As a human, he always had been rather masculine, even if those years of morbid solitude had erased most of his previous identity. In his current situation, he was indeed kind of clueless. Was he supposed to do something? The night guard, seeing his hesitation, kept stroking his face against the rabbit's palm, as one of his hands slithered down his pants and went to stroke the bump on his crotch.   
Springtrap grinned, as his other hand trailed up the human's leg. He liked the weird sensation he was currently feeling, liked the thought of having this guard's hot body pressed under his', liked the weird fantasms popping up in his head. He wanted to live them. He wanted to feel something other than pain.   
His hands helped the guard to get rid of his clothes, messily but quickly. His dick was already hardening, a nice sight to the eyes of the Springlock. The latter couldn't resist brushing his hand against it, to which the man replied by a pained whimper. 

"Hey...please watch out, that hurts!"

Springtrap drew back his hand. Indeed, the wires and metallic parts poking out of the fur weren't very soft, especially on such areas. When he tried again, he made sure not to hurt the human, who let out a delightful sigh. 

"Fuck...that's awesome, man."

Springtrap ran his hand up and down the guards shaft, slowly at first, then a slight more faster. The guard whimpered when the rabbit rubbed his thumb against his tip, then slid it down all the way to the base. It was so weird, but so good at the same time, and he knew he wanted more of it, even if a killer animatronic jacking him off was maybe the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. The feeling kept growing in his his chest and his groin, a strange heat running inside that soon made him go crazy. Springtrap kept moving his hands, always at a quicker pace, and even though his animal half didn't quite grasp the meaning of his scene, his human half loved it. His own bowels, or at least what remained of these, were shivering more of pleasure than cold. If his own dick hadn't been crushed by wires decades ago, he would have loved to thrust it into that fine ass over there.   
Springtrap felt the human's hands bringing his rabbit face closer. The guard stroked the greenish fur with a lounging curiosity, licking his lips seductively enough for Springtrap to be really turned on. 

"I wonder...what you got underneath."

The human fussed with the metal joints that were holding the rabbit's face lowered, and managed to slowly lift it up...only to shut it close a second later, a disgusted expression on his face. 

"Eww...what...what's that thing inside!?"

He backed up, frightened, or at the very least utterly disgusted. Surely he had expected a weird endoskeleton face to be there...but that was nothing even close to an endoskeleton. To his knowledge, robots weren't built with realistic blood, face muscles and pieces of horribly human-looking skulls stuck in every articulation! True that he kinda liked furry stuff, but that shit was plain necrophilia. And, even for someone who loved to lurk on the most bizarre sides of Internet, some things were way too far beyond the line of weirdness to be reached.   
Springtrap seemed to feel the struggle of this human, as seen by his hard member going limp in a matter of seconds. Even if he didn't understand what was pushing him away from the rabbit, he kind of got that doing smut business with corpses was not a kink everyone shared, even if he sometimes liked to consider doing it himself. The human awkwardly curled up on the desk, trying to get his pants back on, now scared that he had angered the Springlock. 

"Stupid robot freak...gotta get out of there...", he mumbled to himself while meddling with his clothes. 

Springtrap felt as if he had misheard that sentence, but there was no denying. What was this filthy human to think it could decide when to end this?   
Springtrap let his scream echo in the dark office, startling the night guard. In a single motion, he grabbed the human by both wrists and pinned him to the wall. 

"Let me go!", he shouted. "Please!" 

Springtrap didn't listen. Keeping the human from moving with one hand, he used the other to rip away his half-clad pants, leaving his legs exposed. No matter if Springtrap didn't have any of the required body parts; he would have his way with that human, one way or another.   
Under the hand that kept the humans wrists still, he heard the familiar sound of bones cracking.


End file.
